Page 60 of Touched By Sin
Stepping behind her, I pull her close to my body while keeping my eyes locked on Angel. I want her to watch. I want to see the fire spark to life in her dead eyes. The beat kicks in, and the music sinks into my veins, guiding my movements.
“You know how to dance,” the human, who reeks of peach shots and cheap perfume, shouts over the music. I smile against her ear, feeling a sense of triumph when my little angel grits her teeth. I’m hard and it doesn’t help that the brunette rubs her pert ass against me.
The moment she falls under my spell, she melts into me, and her arm around my neck slips away like dead weight. I guide her outside into the night air and she willingly follows across the street to a quiet alley, where we disappear into the darkness.
I have her pressed up against the brick wall, my fingers teasing the inside of her thighs, when Angel joins us in the alley. It fucking pisses me off that I can’t slide the human’s panties aside and feel her wet warmth wrap around my fingers. Angel’s gaze flicks from me to the girl and back. She wants to plead for the girl’s life.
I quirk my finger at her. “Come here, little angel.”
She takes a hesitant step closer, then another, briefly glancing toward the mouth of the alley. There’s no one around. We’re alone.
“Do you like her?” I ask her as I grab the girl’s throat to silence her soft whimpers.
“She’s pretty.”
“Yes, she is,” I agree, mostly to see my little angel’s reaction.
She’s possessive. It’s there in the hardening of her jaw.
“You need to feed,” I tell her, pointing out the obvious. It’s not something she has figured out yet, but now that she’s in Hell, purity alone won’t sustain her. Especially not now that she has so little of it in supply.
“I can’t drink from her.”
The girl whimpers again, and I press my palm over her mouth to muffle the sound. Then, to Angel, I say, “Of course you fucking can. You don’t have a choice.”
It’s the wrong thing to say at the wrong time. Angel puts her hands on her hips, arching her brow. “I don’t have a choice?”
I secretly love her sass, but I won’t tell her that. She’s been depressed for the last week since we found her sitting in a sea of her own feathers. I would lie if I said I wasn’t relieved she wasn’t let back in. On our way to find her, I kept thinking, ‘What if Eden welcomed her home? What then?’ That thought scares me more than I want to admit. Hell, she’s got me by my balls.
“Feed on her,” I order.
Angel shakes her head, looking up at me with her glassy doe eyes. “I’ve already killed once.”
With a groan, I release the girl. She tries to escape, so I grab her arm and pull her back, tossing her into the arms of Ronan. “The sin has already been committed. Your little man in the sky isn’t going to place you on a pedestal foronlykilling one human.”
She levels me with a glare while Ronan backs the girl up against the back wall. “I will not feed on a human.”
Okay, now I’m getting annoyed. I step closer, forcing her back a step. “Tell me, innocent little angel, how will you survive in my world without blood? Your incisors have grown in. You’re one of us now.”
“Am I?” she argues, half turning, showing me her white wings. “Do I look like one of you?”
It pains me to see the sorry state they’re in. The feathers will grow back, but it takes months. Right now, she looks like a distressed chicken.
My hand shoots out, grabbing her jaw. I prod her incisor with my thumb and smile when it sharpens and elongates. She’s angry. “Do any of your friends back home have these, huh?” I shove her away. “Your wings may be white, but they fool no one.”
Snorting, she strides off. Dammit. Fucking stubborn woman! I chase after her, seizing her arm and dragging her right back. She’s not getting away this time. I will get her to feed if it’s the last fucking thing I do.
Besides, if she wants her fucking feathers to grow back, she needs to feed. “You’re acting like a fucking child!”
Her blue eyes fly up to mine, and there’s that fire and defiance I’ve come to love so much. “A child?! You think I’m acting like a child because I don’t want to commit murder?”
Okay, so now I’m laughing. “Murder?”
Angel narrows her eyes to slits and folds her arms over her chest, which only makes me laugh more.
“Are we feeding or debating?” Alaric asks.
I ignore him. The human isn’t going anywhere, and Ronan is doing a good job of keeping her under his spell. It’s the stubborn little angel I need to work on. No, fuck that. I’m not used to this weird shit. Women fall at my feet. If I click my fingers, they follow orders. They don’t glare up at me with their arms crossed and hips cocked. What the actual fuck is this? I’m not fluent in her language. It’s confusing as fuck, so I do what I always do when I feel out of my depth. I resort to violence.
